eros, logos: opening

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

opening

Thank you to the wonderful Madeline for fleshbotting me! Check her blog out, if you don't already read it you should.

In bed he tells me to shut my eyes and open my legs. Wider, he says, he wants me spread wider, splayed open. He wants all of me open to him. I feel invaded but I do what he tells me. I can feel his greedy sight plundering me the way he’s probed me before, with hands and fingers, tongue and lips, cock. I hold myself open for him and my breath is already coming fast, I can feel I’m already getting wet, when he says

There is a room that is empty. No one goes there, you don’t let anyone in.

In the corner is a box. Just an anonymous box with a lock. You don’t open it much but you have to, sometimes. You can’t stay away from it.

Sometimes you don’t think about it or what’s in it, but sometimes you can’t stop.

Open it now. Tell me what’s in it.

I don’t want to, but eventually I do.
Everything he says is like a secret voice speaking out of my bones.

Later he bites the inside of my thigh. He says he wants to mark me, he wants me to feel him on my skin later when we’re not together. I tell him I want to look down at my body and see where his hands have been on me.

But of course, I already feel him everywhere anyway.

Still later I get a text from him: I will have to stay away from you sometimes, it says. Right now I’m addicted. All I can think about is the next hit.
I want to open that secret chest and spread the contents of it over the walls and the floor.

I'm afraid, but I want that too.

(Welcome Fleshbot readers. Try Whore, 2, and Lift, 3)

but why put it into words?

Isolate rather this element

That spreads through other lives like a tree

And sways them on in a sort of sense

And say why it never worked for me.

Something to do with violence

A long way back, and wrong rewards,

And arrogant eternity.
Philip Larkin, Love Again

Labels: addiction, bruises, larkin, secrets

posted by O @ 07:50


7 Comments:
At 28 January, 2009, A Sinful Affair said… Those remnants or feelings that you feel afterwards are priceless. Perfectly stated my dear! At 28 January, 2009, Anonymous said… Words as plain as hen-birds' wings Do not lie, Do not over-broider things - Are too shy. Thoughts that shuffle round like pence Through each reign, Wear down to their simplest sense Yet remain. Weeds are not supposed to grow But by degrees Some achieve a flower, although No one sees. 'Modesties' - Philip Larkin At 28 January, 2009, Anonymous said… Sounds like romance and danger of the very best sort. Truth be told, I could do with some of that in my own life. At 28 January, 2009, Aurore said… Addicted...that is something I can relate to. At 28 January, 2009, DnWormer said… When our appetites are so overwhelming, I say feed them. At 28 January, 2009, Anonymous said… Oh...I have goosebumps remembering the first time he said he was addicted to me. Because it was the perfect definition for my need of him. The closest thing I imagine to needing a drug to make it through the day. Loving this submissive side of you... At 29 January, 2009, Maeve said… Sometimes, you just have to do stuff...Short but beautiful!
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